FALLING LIKE DOMINOES
by Elszy
Summary: I like Deeks, and I like a bit of hurt/comfort too. Four views on a case, and how bad things can go.  Thanks for reading and comments... enjoy!
1. pt 1: G Callen

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

part 1

**-.-.- G. CALLEN -.-.-**

**

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**

'Sit down, Mr Callen. Would you care to join me?' Hetty Lange pointed to the fragile china tea pot and ditto cups and saucers that sat on a tray at the far end of her desk. 'Nothing like a good cup of Earl Grey to soothe a raw throat.'

Although Callen wasn't exactly a fan of Hetty's teas, he nodded. He was weary to the bone, his eyes were were still watering, the coughing had worn him out. For once, a cup of tea didn't sound too bad now.

'Good,' said Hetty, poured the steaming hot liquid in a delicate millefleurs-strewn cup and put it down on the table top in front of him. 'Now Mr Callen. In your own words, please. What happened?'

Callen swallowed a couple of times to suppress another bout of coughs. 'It was a total screw-up, Hetty. The intel was incomplete. If we had known about the chemicals...'

'Start at the beginning, Mr Callen, if you'd please. The warehouse near the docks?'

Callen nodded. 'Right. The loading doors were closed but there was a wicket door slightly ajar, Alfonse's Mercedes stood outside. Eric had told us the call came from inside and Sam peeked in. We counted three: Alfonse was holding the girl, Carpenter was alone. A black Chrysler van was parked behind him. We sneaked in, they were too busy minding their own business to notice us. Sam and I stayed in the shadows to the right, Kensi and Deeks took the left. Eric had told us the warehouse was no longer officially in use and the building was to be taken down soon, but there was a lot of stuff still standing all over the place. Crates and boxes and machine parts - obviously it served Alfonse's purposes well and while it lasted, he used the place.'

The agent paused to take a sip, and experienced the comfort of the tea Hetty had made.

'The mission was simple: get in, get the girl and arrest Alfonse.'

'But it went wrong,' stated Hetty when Callen paused.

'Yes. The girl was a pawn, nothing more. Carpenter was after Alfonse and raised his gun to kill him. I understood when I saw it: it wasn't Alfonse we were after, it was Carpenter all along. When Alfonse snatched Carpenter's mistress, he thought he had Carpenter on his knees. But the girl was nothing to Carpenter. It gave him the ideal opportunity to put an end to Alfonse's involvement in the drugs business.'

Hetty nodded slowly and thoughtfully. 'Carpenter set it up?'

'Yeah. The girl was expendable,' said Callen disgusted. 'He only used her because she had been in Alfonse's company once or twice.'

'And?'

Callen paused for a second to get his mind around the events. 'We called out, told them to freeze, drop their weapons. As I said, Sam and I moved in from the right, Kensi and Deeks were approaching from the left. Alfonse suddenly pushed the girl forward, Carpenter fired and although aiming at Alfonse, hit her. And then suddenly the shit hit the fan. Two of Carpenter's men got out of the van and started shooting. Alfonse had men hiding in the shadows and they opened fire too. It was instant chaos… _ugh-ugh-ugh.._.' Callen had to stop to cough. The filthy smoke he had inhaled was still painfully present in his lungs.

'Easy, Mr Callen,' said Hetty and waited patiently for the coughing fit to subside. 'Easy does it.'

'… _ugh…. ugh… _Carpenter made for the van. I saw Alfonse going down, hit by a gunshot from Carpenter. Alfonse had been carrying a briefcase and when he fell, it fell too and the next thing I knew there was an enormous blast that threw us off our feet. It must have been pressure-activated: when Alfonse let go of it, it blew up. Carpenter's driver hit the gas and sped towards us, but the van hit a couple of racks as it made its way for the loading doors.'

'Racks, Mr Callen?'

'Lots of them. Top to bottom filled with chemicals in jerrycans and tins and canisters and bottles. Deeks lunged aside to avoid the van. The racks toppled over like dominoes. Sam and I were returning fire, we were shot at from the van and Kensi was fighting off one of Alfonse's men. The explosion from the suitcase Alfonse had been holding had set the place on fire, so when Kensi knocked out her assailant, we made for the door. By that time the air had become nearly unbreathable. The fire combined with the chemicals that had fallen to the ground when the van hit the racks, rapidly caused dangerous fumes. We could only fall back.'

'And Carpenter and the van?'

'Crashed through the doors. Scraped the Mercedes that stood parked outside and although we fired, it got away. By then, we were so_…ugh-ugh-ugh.._ the fumes were…_…ugh-ugh-ugh.._' Coughing, more coughing, Callen had the feeling he was choking. The tea cup fell over when he grabbed the table for support. Hetty stood up, walked toward the water cooler in the corner of her room and came back with a plastic cup. In her hand she held a little white pill.

'Take this, Mr Callen.'

'_...ugh… _wha._..ugh…_ whadsha_...ugh…_' Callen managed to utter.

'Doctor's orders,' Hetty said with further explanation and Callen popped the pill. The cool water felt good in this throat. He closed his eyes for a second, wiping away the unwanted tears that blurred his vision once again.

On his back he felt a little hand. Warm. Caring.

'Easy does it, Mr Callen. Take your time.'

Callen drank the rest of the water. His chest heaved up and down, but after some time he nodded he was alright. The little hand on his back disappeared and Hetty sat herself down in her own chair again.

'Where was Miss Blye at that moment?'

'She came out a few seconds after us. Same as Sam and me, coughing, streaming eyes. Apart from that, she was alright.'

'And Mr Deeks?'

Callen rubbed his forehead before he answered in a soft, guilt-ridden voice: 'He was a no-show.'

* * *

(tbc)


	2. pt 2: Sam Hanna

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 2

**-.-.- SAM HANNA -.-.-**

* * *

'Mr Hanna. Please take a seat. You do look more like your usual self. Are you feeling better?'

'Yes Hetty. Thanks,' nodded Sam. She was right, he was feeling better. The pure oxygen he'd been given and the pills he took had done their work and he could breathe a lot easier now than a couple of hours ago.

'Care for some tea, Mr Hanna?' she asked.

'Water will be just fine, Hetty,' said Sam. He knew she valued her cup of tea and thought everyone must feel the same, but Sam hadn't put his lips to anything hot just yet. A cold drink was what felt best.

'Water it is,' Hetty agreed and brought him his drink. She picked up her cup, smelled the scent of the brand that Sam by now recognised as Ceylon, took a sip and smacked her lips approvingly before she put the cup down again.

'Mr Hanna, did Carpenter drive the van himself?'

'No,' said Sam, shaking his head. He recognised the opening of debriefing. 'He had a couple of men waiting in the van.'

'Hadn't you seen them?'

'No. The windows were darkened. It was impossible to see anything in the vehicle. Of course, I knew it was very unlikely that Carpenter was alone, but up till then we had merely concentrated on Alfonse.'

'Mr Callen mentioned a briefcase.'

'Yeah, it blew up. Alfonse was holding it, he got shot and it must have fallen from his hand. I guess there were some pretty heavy explosives inside. Blew away half the warehouse.'

'Whose was the briefcase?'

Sam needed to think to answer that properly. 'When we came in, Alfonse was holding it. But in retrospect, I believe he got it from Carpenter. Makes sense. Alfonse abducted Teena. To get her back, Carpenter had to pay and you don't carry that kind of money in your inside pockets, right? I suppose Alfonse thought the money was in there, but Carpenter had the briefcase prepared with explosives.'

'Mm,' said Hetty thoughtfully. 'But what would have happened if Alfonse would have opened the briefcase to check if the money was all there? From what you tell me it seems likely it would have blown up instantly. Carpenter could have been injured or killed if that were the case. He wouldn't risk that, now would he?'

The two held quiet for a minute, lost in thoughts. Sam tried to recall what happened and racked his brain for more details that he missed the first time. He shook his head. 'Sorry Hetty. That's how I remember it. It all happened so fast.'

'Yes, Mr Callen told me. The explosion, the van, the chemicals… What happened then, Mr Hanna?'

'After the van crashed through the doors? It took off. We were unable to stop it. Kensi came running out. Deeks didn't follow. The fire was spreading fast when we realised he wouldn't be coming out if we didn't go in to get him.'

Again, Sam paused to think. The memory had embedded itself firmly and brought chills down his spine. 'We went back inside. We called out for him. The air inside was horrible, hardly breathable. Kensi ran to the last place she'd seen Deeks before the racks started falling and we found him there.'

_Found_… Found was hardly the correct word. It had been a nightmare inside, the air thick with toxic fumes, the heat from the flames that ate their way through the cork-dry wood eagerly, the vision practically zero… and then Sam had stepped on something soft. Grey trainers. A left shoe. Deeks' shoe.

'Deeks!' he croaked when he spotted a lumpy dark figure on the ground. Coughing he crouched down next to Deeks, who writhed in pain and clawed with cramped fingers at his chest and his throat. He gasped for air. 'Over here!' Sam managed to scream, and felt more than he saw that Callen and Kensi appeared next to him.

'We dragged him out, Hetty. He was doing badly. Callen had trouble breathing, he had inhaled more than Kensi and I, so I called an ambulance.'

Again, Sam saw Deeks, blisters forming on his face and his right hand and arm, the skin swelling fast and turning ominously purplish red before his very eyes. He didn't want to, or couldn't open his eyes and seemed so overpowered by pain that Sam wasn't sure he was aware of the other agents anymore.

Sam had seen his share of injuries, but this was definitely one of the scarier ones. This was beyond a blow to the head, a cut or a fist in the stomach. His SEAL-training kicked in when he recognised what Deeks was fighting and he took his shirt off in a hurry. He ran to a rain barrel which, to his relief, was half filled, and dipped it in. Deeks, on the ground, fought to get air in his lungs. 'What is that stuff?' Kensi cried out as she copied Sam's actions. With the soaking wet shirts the two agents had tried to cool the radiating skin and bring some relief to Deeks burning arm and face.

'An acid of some kind,' grunted Sam. 'We must keep him cool. Deeks? Deeks, can you hear me?'

Callen, on his knees next to Deeks and Kensi, eyes running and hardly able to speak, croaked: 'He _...ugh...ugh… _can't _...ugh...ugh… _breathe.'

'Deeks? Deeks, listen to me! It's me, Sam. Listen to my voice. Hold on, buddy. Fight this, come on.'

Marty Deeks lips turned cyanotic. 'Deeks! Stay with us!' Kensi grabbed his uninjured hand and squeezed it. 'Deeks, don't you give up or I swear I'm going to kill you myself.' Deeks choked, every ragged bit of air he could catch prolonged his life as well as his suffering. Like breathing through one, tiny straw, Sam thought.

One hazed blue eye opened for just a few seconds, panic and shock clouding it. 'That's it, there you are,' said Sam. 'Now you're not going anywhere. Stay with us, focus. Ambulance is on the way.'

It was as if listening to a creaking door slowly closing. Due to the acid, Deeks' throat and air pipe were swelling up and shutting the way to his lungs effectively. His one eye rolled backwards in it socket, his eyelid fluttered and his head suddenly felt back.

'Deeks! Deeks!' cried Kensi and to Sam and Callen: 'He's not breathing!'

...

'And that's it, Hetty,' said Sam, shrugging. 'You know the rest.'

Hetty nodded, scribbled a note with a sharp pencil, pouted her lips and suddenly asked: 'Do you like Mr Deeks, Mr Hanna?'

For an instant, Sam thought he'd misunderstood. 'What?'

'I asked you if you like Mr Deeks,' repeated Hetty her question.

'Err… yeah… he's a pain in the butt, but he's okay.'

'Why is he a pain in the butt, as you so eloquently put it?' Hetty wanted to know.

Sam felt cornered. 'Because he is. He's socially inept, he doesn't fit in, doesn't seem to care.'

'I think you are wrong, Mr Hanna. Mr Deeks is a very social man, one who has been fighting injustice on his own for a long time. What you call social ineptness is an attitude which he has adopted along the way to prevent himself from going insane whilst being surrounded with corrupt agents. Have some patience with him, Mr Hanna. Mr Deeks wants nothing more than being part of this team, and he is willing to risk his life to save that of his team mates. That includes you, too.'

_I know that_, Hetty, thought Sam slightly irritated. It's just on ongoing joke. Deeks was the odd man out when he came, but he's proven his value and he's earned his place. At one point, Sam had forgotten that he disliked Deeks and realised the blond was a nice guy, really. Nevertheless, Sam had not been very keen on getting Deeks on the team at the time with Hetty going over their heads and he wasn't about to change his opinion any time soon.

His lack of answer made Hetty smile. 'You can go, Mr Hanna. Take the rest of the day off and relax. Come back tomorrow. Tell Mr Callen to go home too.'

'Thanks.' Sam stood up but turned on his heels before heading out. 'Hetty…'

'Mr Hanna?'

'He'll be alright, won't he?'

* * *

(tbc)


	3. pt 3: Kensi Blye

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 3

**-.-.- KENSI BLYE -.-.-**

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'Miss Blye. How is your hand?' asked Hetty and peered through her thick glasses, that made her eyes look even bigger, to the subject of her question.

'It's okay,' said Kensi listlessly and, as if to prove her own words, she plucked absentmindedly at the edges of the bandage. 'I hadn't even noticed before I got to the hospital.'

'Does it hurt?'

'The creme helps,' said Kensi, shrugging. She wasn't sure why Hetty wanted to talk about anything other than the case, and her injury, which was nothing compared to what Deeks was going through, seemed too banal to discuss.

'Don't trivialise your own injury, Miss Blye,' said Hetty kindly.

'But Deeks…' began Kensi, only to be interrupted by a head shake from her boss.

'Please, don't go there. Guilt is a bad motivator and doesn't help anyone. You need to be fit, you must be able to use your hand while being in active service and if you're not, I need to know. I don't need you hiding behind another man's condition.'

'Sorry, Hetty,' said Kensi. 'It's just that… he was so bad. If you had seen him struggling for air, and the way he looked…' She shook her head, trying to chase the spooky images away. Like snapshots they popped up inside her head: the ride to the hospital, Sam quickly bringing the paramedics up to speed and the emergency tracheotomy they performed on Deeks, the hiss that meant air was reaching his lungs again, the beeping of the heart monitor and in between the endless painful coughs that Sam, Callen and she had suffered.

When Deeks was rushed off into the theatres and Callen, who was worse than she and Sam, had disappeared into the catacombs of the hospital, her legs suddenly had felt like rubber. The paramedics had taken her and Sam to a treatment room, given them a shot of antibiotics and an oxygen mask and it wasn't until then that Kensi noticed something was wrong. While the adrenaline kept her going, she hadn't been aware that she too had gotten into contact with the chemicals. She raised her hand and looked with shocked surprise at the red spots, the blisters and the swelling on her right wrist. It was the same reaction as Deeks had. That alarmed the ER-doctor enough to call for a specialist.

Within a minute another doctor arrived who introduced himself as Doctor Panjib and then checked her vitals very carefully. 'No nausea? No difficulty breathing?' he inquired while, after checking the glands in her neck, he listened to her lungs with a stethoscope.

Kensi shook her head and took off the mask. 'No.'

'Keep the mask on. Does it hurt?'

_Yes, it hurt._ It burnt and stung like hell, that's what it did. 'It does,' she said, trying not to sound pathetic or girly. After all, she was Wonder Woman, that's what Deeks said and Wonder Women don't whine. Right? She avoided Sam's glare. 'But it's bearable,' she stated. 'It burns.'

'Can you move your hand and your fingers freely? How does the skin feel when you bend your wrist?'

'Tight,' said Kensi after a try. 'As if someone's pulling at it. What kind of stuff did this, doctor?'

Doctor Panjib bit his lip in thought for a second. 'An acid, or more likely, a mix of acids. Sometimes otherwise harmless chemicals can cause extreme reactions when they are mixed. From what I can tell - we should run more tests and get samples from the compound if that's possible - that seems the most likely explanation. I will apply a creme that will stop the compound from entering your skin further. The problem with such acids often is, that it doesn't stop at the epidermis but bites its way down, straight through the skin. In the worst case scenario the blood gets contaminated, the cell structure of all underlying tissues and organs gets damaged – for lack of a better word - by such an agent.'

He flipped the lid of a plastic jar filled with a white, thick yoghurt-like creme and began to apply it cautiously to Kensi's hand and wrist. 'This will help,' he assured her. 'It has a cooling effect and will stop the chemical process from going further. I want to keep a close eye on this.' He stopped when a thick layer was covering Kensi's injuries and then applied a protective bandage. 'Leave the bandage on, come back tomorrow. If you feel anything out of the ordinary, call me immediately.'

The doctor was right: the creme felt good and already the coolness began to alleviate the pain. 'I will prescribe some drugs to fight off the effects of what you and your colleague inhaled and some painkillers, too.' He looked her kindly in the eyes. 'Once again, if anything, anything at all doesn't feel right…'

Kensi nodded. 'I'll call,' she promised.

The doctor turned to Sam. 'And you, sir? Are you experiencing anything of the same kind?'

Sam shook his head, gratefully inhaling the oxygen he was given. 'No. I'm fine.'

The doctor raised his eyebrows sceptically. 'Really? Why don't you let me be the judge of that?'

'Our colleagues…' Kensi began but lost herself in coughing.

'G. Callen and Marty Deeks,' Sam continued. 'How are they?'

'I'll ask and have a nurse bring you an update, alright? I'll be back in an hour,' the doctor promised, nodded the two goodbye and headed for the door.

'When can we leave, doc?' asked Sam before the doctor could exit the room.

In the doorway doctor Panjib turned to face them. A smile appeared. 'Ah, she told me you were eager. Too eager, if you ask me. I want you two here for at least an hour, until your breathing is back to acceptable levels again and when I've checked how you are, then - and only then and NOT before then - I will give you the green light.'

'Who told you?' Sam squinted his eyes. The doctor grinned and Sam instantly understood. 'Let me guess,' he said with a sigh. 'Tiny woman, glasses, has a way of her own?'

'Bingo,' said the doctor and after a final nod, he left.

'How does she do it?' grunted Sam and coughed. Then he caught Kensi's thoughtful look. 'Everything okay? Your hand? Wrist?'

'Fine,' she said and coughed a little. 'I'm just worried.'

'So am I,' said Sam.

The two fell quiet. There was nothing more that needed to be said. Callen would probably get the same treatment as they had, a bit more intensified maybe, and a prolonged stay in the hospital might be necessary - if they could keep him here - but Deeks…

How was Deeks doing…?

(tbc)


	4. pt 4: Hetty Lange

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 4

**-.-.- HETTY LANGE -.-.-**

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Sometimes, in the darkness of the night it seemed that morning would never come, Hetty thought tiredly and rubbed her eyes. It was almost four thirty. In an hour or so, daybreak would come, light would dawn and a new day was ready to begin. Hours ago she had sent Mr Callen, Mr Hanna and Miss Blye home. The three had been shaken much more about the catastrophic events than they were willing to admit, and Hetty was struck by their overall sense of defeat. Only Mr Hanna seemed a little up to getting back at Carpenter, but both Mr Callen and Miss Blye had been unnervingly depressed.

There was something catching about it. Hetty too experienced it. The feeling of losing an agent. And it was Deeks - again.

It wasn't that long ago, Hetty had been sitting at Deeks' bed when he woke up late at night. Despite being shot, he had saved Miss Blye's life. That stunt defined him. If ever anyone of the team had any doubts whatsoever about him, that was completely erased by what Deeks had pulled off.

Hetty liked Marty Deeks. She never regretted bringing him in. After the death of Dom a new man had to be found. There were agents in training, good men and women, who would one day serve NCIS very well. But right there, right then, there wasn't anyone ready yet to step into Dom's shoes. Ready - or willing… Taking over the place of someone who was killed in action, a likeable young man like Dom, was difficult and Hetty could very well imagine the reluctance of agents trying to take his place.

Marty Deeks had known nothing of this. When he was added to the team, he did it with an eagerness and sincerity that was heart-warming. Mr Callen had soon embraced him, a bit like a kid brother, Miss Blye held back at first but came round too. The only one who had taken longer to accept Deeks, was Mr Hanna.

Hetty had inquired about his - what she saw as unfair - ideas about Deeks, but it didn't take her long to realise that it was no longer a bothering issue. It had become a matter of speech, a slight tease, on ongoing pun that lived a life of its own. Once Mr Hanna saw that his partner put his trust in Marty Deeks, he too relaxed. The teasing and bickering never grew into anything nasty, and over the months Hetty had witnessed that the good relationship between the agents intensified and Mr Deeks got accepted.

Mr Deeks should be part of NCIS, not of the LAPD, she thought wryly. _He belongs with us._

At nearly ten thirty, she had been preparing to go home when she got a telephone call. 'Miss Lange? This is Grandvue Hospital. I'm calling as your name is listed in case of an emergency,' said a friendly voice. 'Protocol number 5136561-AMD-10. Can you please confirm this?'

'Confirming. Protocol number AMD-10-Y/5136,' acknowledged Hetty her counter protocol number. She had her contacts in the hospital and had already heard about the state of Mr Callen, Mr Hanna and Miss Blye long before she had spoken to them in person. She knew Mr Deeks was in the Intensive Care when she and her agents had gone over the events of the afternoon, and she knew he was treated by the best doctors in the country. She also knew he could hardly breathe and that he suffered third and second degree burns over his face, his neck, shoulder, arm and hand.

'I'll put you through to doctor Panjib, ma'am,' said the woman. One click and then Hetty heard the doctor she'd spoken to earlier today.

'Hetty, I'm sorry to disturb you this late,' Panjib began.

'Not at all,' said Hetty. 'What is it, Rubin?'

'Your man, Martin Deeks - there's a complication that I thought you needed to know. His right eye. I've consulted Munroe, the ophthalmologist. It seems a splat of the acid has hit him in the eye.'

The quiet of the office seemed emphasised by the chill that ran down Hetty's neck. 'Go on, Rubin, please.'

'It's too early to even begin to predict what the outcome will be,' Rubin Panjib said earnestly. 'I'm sorry Hetty. We're doing everything we can to keep the vision in his eye, but right now… it's…' the doctor sounded hesitant and seemed to think of the best way to bring the worst news, '...it's not good. I asked Munroe to come and he's trying to stop the process of cell destruction as we speak.'

'Would it help if you knew the exact composition of the acid?' asked Hetty, her practical mode kicking in, her mind already on ways to enable this.

'Not really,' Panjib answered. 'It's too late for that. Just like with Miss Blye, we've got the swelling, the burns and the blisters under control. We've done some skin transplants, a few patches that were too deep to heal properly. Fortunately, those are in barely visible parts of his body. Mr Deeks won't win any beauty contests for a while, but given time and proper treatment that should all heal. An eye is a different thing. Even the slightest bit of damage can be beyond repair and cause lifetime invalidity.'

'I understand. How's his breathing? His lungs?'

'Well, he was off a lot worse than your man Callen,' continued Panjib. 'He must have been lying face down in those chemicals. There's quite some damage to his lungs, his windpipe, even his oesophagus. He'll be on lots of medication for the next few weeks. We're still administering pure oxygen, and that too will have to continue for a while.'

'Has he regained consciousness yet?'

'No,' said Panjib a little softer. 'But he's strong. Once the anaesthetic wears off, I expect him to wake up and then you can come in and see him.'

'He's still in the IC?'

'Yes. So it's just you, Hetty. I can't allow your agents in. The transplants and the burns to his body must absolutely not get infected, that is of vital importance. As long as he's in the state he's in right now, I can't allow anyone else to visit him.'

'I understand,' Hetty said. 'Thank you, Rubin, for taking such good care of my people.'

'Any time, Hetty,' said doctor Panjib and hung up.

Hetty walked to the window of the office and looked outside. Grandvue was over there, somewhere, hidden amongst the tens of thousands of lights of the city. And Mr Deeks was there and he needed her.

She picked up her briefcase, her scarf and an extra pair of glasses, got to her car and drove to the hospital. She didn't enter the IC-ward but sat down in the waiting room, put her feet up on another chair, took a thick book from her briefcase and opened it. It was James Joyce's _Ulysses_. She wasn't going anywhere and since idly sitting in a chair was not Hetty's style, she opened the book and began to read.

* * *

(tbc)


	5. pt 5: Marty Deeks

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 5

**-.-.- MARTY DEEKS -.-.-**

**

* * *

**

There's something strange about waking up. It doesn't happen with a jolt as you so often see it on tv - at least not most of the time. Most people struggle for a while in a sort of state between realising they're waking up, their minds a step ahead, but their bodies uncooperative and their eyes unwilling to let the sunshine in.

That was more or less what was going on in Marty Deeks' mind when he slowly came round. He knew he was waking up, he couldn't understand why he felt so horrible. Why he dreamed of cellophane wrappers that came with toffees and candy. Why his throat felt like he had eaten razor blades. Why one eye wouldn't work together the other one. Why he thought of mummies. And why he had the feeling he was in a deep bed stuffed with cotton balls. No, in fact, he had the feeling HE was stuffed with cotton balls. He couldn't make out if he was drugged, terribly hungover or just sleepy or if something else was going on.

But after a while he began to realise someone talked to him. Said his name. He tried to lift his hand, found it covered with something, let it fall back and brought his other hand up. What was that? There was something covering his face? But not entirely, right? Not? Was he wearing a mask? Oxygen?

'Mr Deeks?'

With all the willpower he could muster, he opened one eye while his fingers met with soft bandages and gauze that was covering the other one. Why couldn't he get both eyes to work together? He tried to pluck the mask away, but a small hand carefully stopped him.

'Leave it on, Mr Deeks. Can you hear me?' A nice voice, warm and welcome and caring, close but not too close. 'My name is Nancy, I'm your IC-nurse. You're in the hospital.'

Deeks couldn't focus and blinked. After what looked like an eternity the blur disappeared and a woman in her late forties came in view and looked at him with a kind smile.

'Hello there,' she said and nodded. 'Can you hear me?'

'Yes,' croaked Deeks. That didn't sound like his own voice at all.

'You must be thirsty,' said the nurse. What was her name again? Nancy, that's right. The mask was lifted, a plastic spoon appeared in front of him, and Nancy slipped some ice chips between his chapped lips. That felt good. She repeated what she did one more time. 'That's all I can give you for now,' she then told him and put the mask back.

'What's all this?' Deeks whispered, touching the gauze again. He wasn't sure his voice would reach beyond the mask, but apparently Nancy had heard him.

'You've got chemical burns, merely on the right side of the upper half of your body,' she explained matter-of-factly. 'The gauze and the bandages are covering the creme that we put on the burns.'

_Chemical burns?_

'The mask is necessary because you've inhaled toxic fumes,' Nancy went on. 'You'll be alright, your lungs just a need little assistance at the moment. Do you understand me?'

'Yes.'

'Good. Are you in pain?'

_Call button. Pain relief button._ Suddenly Deeks remembered nurse Debby telling him exactly that, several months ago. He didn't know if he was feeling pain or if he was just too groggy to recognise it. The nurse took a little light from her pocket and shone into his eyes. Correction - his eye. One eye. He blinked and flinched. Then she checked his IV, his pulse and his temperature.

'Feverish, but considering… not that bad at all. This must be scary, I know,' she said. The tone of her voice was professional but nice. Made him feel even more drowsy. 'Get some rest.'

'My eye…?' he whispered and licked his dry lips.

She hesitated. Just for a split second, but she hesitated. 'You got something in your eye and you have been treated for it. The ophthalmologist will be here tomorrow and tell you what you need to know.' She gave his uninjured hand a gentle squeeze. 'Now rest, Mr Deeks. It's the middle of the night. The more you rest, the sooner you'll be up again.'

Marty Deeks fought an upcoming wave of nausea, trying to get his mind around his current situation and what got him here. What happened? He couldn't remember much. The last thing he recalled was a warehouse. An explosion, fire. Crashing sounds - a van or a car? And pain. And then… That… that stuff. That burning sensation! He couldn't catch his breath! He was choking! It was suffocating him! Around him machines beeped faster, louder. Deeks gasped for a air and gagged. He couldn't breathe! Air! He needed air! A foul taste bubbled up, he tasted bile and retched uncontrollably. Pain shot through his body like a knife. His chest! Air! He couldn't breathe! He was suffocating! He… he...

'Mr Deeks? Mr Deeks! Relax! Calm down! Look at me, I'm nurse Nancy, remember? Mr Deeks? Mr Deeks? Look at me, open your eyes, look at me, I'm right here. That's it, come back to me, good. Now try not to panic, you're alright here. Everything's fine. Use the oxygen that's coming your way. Don't fight it.'

Deeks' heart rate almost went through the roof, but Nancy's ongoing, calming voice brought it back. 'Look at me,' she insisted. 'Mr Deeks, open your eyes, look at me, let me see those nice blue eyes.'

Somehow she got through to him and he did what she said and his eye met hers. They were brown, he vaguely registered. She looked worried but smiled reassuringly. 'Listen to my voice, follow my lead. That's it. Breathe in, and out, calm down, and in and out, easy does it, in and out, good, good.'

He reached for her hand and she took it and held it between hers. 'And in, and out, good,' she said, time after time until finally he relaxed. The drugs in his IV did the rest. Deeks felt himself sinking away and had but one conscious thought before the bliss of sleep took over: _You can call me Marty_.

* * *

(tbc)


	6. pt 6: More Marty

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 6

**-.-.- MORE MARTY -.-.-**

**

* * *

**

Hetty had been in a few times, Deeks was told, but he hadn't spoken to her. Apart from her no one was allowed into the IC-unit and the lack of company made Deeks blue and sombre. Marie, another IC-nurse told him that he had had visitors but that he had been asleep and they left after having watched him from the other side of the glass for a while. Yes, two men, one muscled type, broad shouldered, the other a bit shorter, the third an attractive, slender woman. No, sorry she couldn't let them in. IC protocol.

_Great. Terrific._

He'd slept most of the days which, according to Nancy, was the best way to a speedy recovery. _Yeah right_, thought Deeks in an uncharacteristically morose mood. The burns were healing slowly but gradually thanks to Nancy's good care and her infinite patience when Deeks' bandages needed to be changed: four times a day. It was a nightmarish exercise, and that had nothing to do with Nancy's handiwork. She was the best. If Marie, who performed the same procedures, would be half as gentle as Nancy was… Marie tried, but lacked the caution and the _fingerspitzengefühl_ that Nancy had.

Nancy tried to be around for him, he knew and inwardly he sighed with relief when it was Nancy who came in with a fresh round of medication and bandages. Although the creme was cooling and hardly stuck to the wounds, removing the protective gauze still seemed like someone was tearing off his skin cell by cell. Nancy worked in silence, concentrated on causing him as little discomfort as possible, so Deeks did the talking to keep his mind occupied.

'Are you married, Nancy?' he asked, his voice still hoarse.

'Yes I am,' she said and peeled off another piece of gauze.

'Kids?'

'Yes. Three.' Her eyes were fixed on the blisters.

'Really? How old?'

'Twin girls, twenty, and a boy, eighteen.'

Deeks hissed when another burning sensation made him shiver and he swallowed. 'Are they in college?'

'Yes. The girls go to UCLA, my son is learning to be a chef.' With a pair of tweezers Nancy very carefully removed a few fibres from a blister.

'Sounds great, right?' Surreptitiously he wiped the sweat from his forehead when he thought Nancy wouldn't notice.

'Yes,' she nodded. 'All a mother could ask for.'

'Your kids and your hubby know how lucky they are?' he asked and bit his lip.

That made her look up. She really had the kindest eyes he had ever seen. 'That's nice of you to say, Marty. D'you need a minute?'

'No, go on,' said Deeks.

Nancy nodded and Deeks fell silent. He was completely exhausted when she was done. 'You don't happen to have any jello?' he had asked feebly when she'd told him he could have some light food soon if he could keep down the liquid that resembled pudding and had no taste at all.

'Not on my ward, I'm sorry,' she laughed. She brushed his hand. 'You look tired. Get some rest.' She needn't say that twice. Even before she'd reached the end of the ward, Deeks was already succumbed to sleep, unable to fight the overwhelming fatigue.

And then he'd dream. Scary dreams about losing his sight completely, about perps running away with both his eyes in a plastic bag, and knifes being stabbed straight into the pupil of his remaining good eye. He'd wake up to pitch dark blackness that only very slowly faded before he became aware of lights and colours, while he frantically touched his face and the patch as if to check if both his eyes were still there.

He tried to hide it from Nancy, but he was scared shitless. His eye was checked every day, the curtains were drawn and the lights were dimmed before the protective gauze and the eyepatch were removed. Doctor Munroe examined his eye thoroughly, administered a strange smelling antiseptic gel in his eye and left the patching to the IC-nurse on duty. It costs Deeks a lot of effort to open his eyes for the doctor. The light was just too much, even though the IC-staff tried to shield him as good as possible from it. Especially when Munroe shone with a penlight in his eye, he had to bite back a cry. The light shot like a flash straight through the pupil right to his brain, his eye ran like crazy and whatever he could make out through the haze wasn't very encouraging.

'Does it hurt?' asked Munroe.

'Reminds me of when I was a kid and fell face-down in a sandpit,' Deeks said in a weak attempt to sound calm. Yes, goddamned, it hurt. Someone was poking around in his eye socket and as a matter of fact, his eyeball was still in it.

'Still heightened sensitivity to light,' muttered Munroe and scribbled something on his notepad, which only made Deeks more nervous.

'How long will this take?' he asked. 'When will it get better?'

'Mr Deeks...' said Munroe and shook his head. 'There's no telling at this point. You might regain the full use of your eye again, you might keep experiencing halos, you might find your vision is constantly blurred. I'm sorry to leave you in the dark.'

_Some choice of words_, Deeks thought bitterly.

'Please understand, the acid in your eye has damaged it. There's no doubt about that. But I do see improvement, compared to when you were brought in. In laymen's terms: your eye looks less troubled and the torn blood vessels aren't deteriorating any further. That's a good sign. It is important you give it time and be patient. Let nature and the medication do their work.' Munroe's pager buzzed, he took it out, checked it, didn't waste any more time and left Deeks behind with the promise to be back tomorrow.

Without his colleagues or Nancy to talk to, Deeks felt alone, depressed and his stomach churned at the thoughts that whirled through his mind.

What if the damage would be permanent?

He'd have to resign.

Stop working at NCIS.

Stop being a cop.

No! He'd rather undergo the skin torture for the rest of his life than losing the use of his eye.

_No… no!… not my eye… not… I can't…_

Gentle tugging and Nancy's voice brought him back from his restless sleep. 'Sorry to wake you, love, but it's that time again.' She put the tray with the gauzes, bandages and jar of creme on the table. 'You were dreaming again, weren't you? I know it's easier said than done, but you should relax. I see how you fight in your sleep. Let go. Come to terms with what's going on and focus on getting your strength back. There was a girl to see you. Pretty, peculiar but nice eyes and a lovely smile. She was worried and I could tell how much she wanted to see you. I've seen your friends too, they're nice. They also want you back. Isn't that a good enough reason to put your worries aside for the time being and try and get yourself back in the saddle again?'

She wiped his face with a damp sponge. The freshness and the slight eucalyptus scent felt good on his warm face. 'There. That better?'

Deeks sighed and then produced a smile.

'Have I ever told you I love sponge baths?'

* * *

(tbc)


	7. pt 7: The Team

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 7

**-.-.- THE TEAM -.-.-**

**

* * *

**

'Good morning ladies, gentlemen,' said Hetty and nodded to her team. Kensi ate an apple, Sam scanned this morning's headlines and Callen tossed a ball of paper through a small hoop attached to the side of his desk, under which stood a bin.

'Morning, Hetty,' came the reply in unison.

'Mr Deeks…' Hetty paused and for one terrible second everyone relived the moment months ago when Hetty had told them Deeks had been shot, '...is released from the IC. He's in a regular ward now.'

'He took his time,' said Callen with a smile.

'That's good news, Hetty,' said Kensi.

'So I finally get to tell him about the ins and outs of chemicals and that he shouldn't be fooling around with them?' said Sam with a stern look but a smile around his lips.

Hetty smiled too. 'Be gentle, Mr Hanna…' She walked to Callen's desk and looked at the hoop. 'He's been in a lot of pain, but from my recent talk to his doctor, he's getting better every day. Apparently his lungs are clean, there are no traces of the toxins in his blood stream any longer and his skin is healing faster than anticipated.'

'And his sight?' informed Kensi, who beamed at the news.

In her characteristic thoughtful way, Hetty looked at Kensi before answering. 'There's still too much uncertainty to make any predictions as to that,' she said slowly. 'Dr Panjib said Mr Deeks made a fast recovery in the past thirty-six hours. Caused by what, he didn't know. But it seems that Mr Deeks is out of the woods, so that's good news, isn't it?'

'Absolutely,' said Callen. 'No doubt he'll try to get a date with one of the nurses.'

'A sponge bath,' Kensi reminded him. 'That's what he keeps going on about.'

Hetty was amused. 'What is it with men, nurses and sponge baths?' she asked rhetorically and raised an eyebrow.

Kensi laughed and cast her an _I-know-what-you-mean-but-I-have-no-clue_ look. 'So we can visit him at last.'

'Yes. I spoke to him an hour ago and he's looking forward to some company.' With that thought Hetty left them and headed to her desk.

'I bet he is,' mumbled Sam to the others. 'He's only seen Hetty for the past week.'

'I heard that, Mr Hanna!'

* * *

Deeks was comfortably supported by pillows and his still somewhat battered face lit up at their arrival. 'Hey guys. Long time no see!'

Kensi scrutinised him with a piercing look. 'Hey there pirate,' she greeted him. 'I thought those were only available in white in hospitals.' She pointed at the eyepatch.

'I asked for a black one. Makes me look really cool. Girls dig this,' said Deeks.

Sam and Callen laughed and Kensi rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, right.'

'It's true! White is for the sick and the weak, black's for the tough guys.'

'Yeah, right,' repeated Kensi.

'How are you doing?' asked Callen.

'Better,' Deeks said. It was a vast improvement compared to a week ago, he was relaxed and smiling as he sat in the bed and talked and laughed. His skin was still covered with red spots, but the fiery colour was fading. He moved his head in an odd way to look at them. 'You really miss a part when you see only half the room,' Deeks said when Sam asked him about it.

'Well, that's an understatement if I heard one,' said Callen dryly. 'You remember anything?'

'Hetty brought me up to speed, but it's all a haze. I don't recall much from what happened at the warehouse.'

'I bet that wasn't what Hetty had hoped to hear,' said Callen.

'Yeah, well… It's not like I did it on purpose,' shrugged Deeks. 'I remember the explosion, and Carpenter and the van and stuff falling… but that's about all.'

The three told Deeks their version of the events. He listened carefully, a wrinkle appearing in his forehead as he did. 'It sounds as if I got further into the building?' he asked slowly.

'Maybe. It got very misty very quickly. Difficult to see anything. When you didn't come out, we went in to get you,' explained Sam.

'Yeah guys, thanks for that. I guess I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't,' Deeks said thoughtfully. He fell silent, his good eye staring in the distance, his mind miles away. Kensi, Sam and Callen exchanged glances. Deeks was renown for his fretting and he could be blaming himself for everything that was wrong in the world if you let him go ahead with that.

'What is it, Deeks?' asked Callen.

'Look man, it happened. Just bad luck,' said Sam.

But it was as if Deeks hadn't heard them. He mumbled: 'There was something. I saw something. I was backing away and then I… there was something, I saw it…'

'What? What did you see?' said Kensi.

Deeks frowned. 'What was it? What… on a shelf… on the ground… I…' Confused and annoyed, he shook his head. 'Come on… there was… I saw something and it was important…'

'Did you go back because you saw something that was of importance for the case?' Callen asked. Sometimes it helped if you heard your own thoughts spoken out loud.

'Yes!' Suddenly Deeks' head shot up and he looked at Callen with his one bright eye shining. 'My clothes! Where are they? I remember I put it in my pocket!'

'Your clothes?'

'The clothes I wore when it happened! Where are they?'

Kensi looked in the cupboard and found a sealed transparant plastic bag with Deeks' personal belongings. There were no clothes and for a second, Deeks grunted, but then he looked closely at the contents of the plastic bag and gave a cheer. 'There! The Blackberry! It's not mine! That's what I saw and what I went back for!' He ripped the bag open and took it out.

'Deeks… Could this be Carpenter's?' asked Callen in surprise and took the Blackberry from the man in the bed.

'I think so.'

'It's password protected. We'll take it to Eric,' he said. 'Carpenter got away but this might just be the breakthrough we need! Come on guys, we've got work to do.'

'Well done Deeks,' said Sam and placed a big hand on Deeks' shoulder for a second. A nod, and off he was.

'Bye Deeks. Gotta go,' said Kensi, smiled and headed after Sam and Callen.

'Hey! Guys…! Hey guys…! What about me…! I'm still here...! I could really use some company!' Deeks called out as they left him. 'Kensi… Can't you just let the guys do what they always do and keep me company? Kiki…? Fern? Please?'

* * *

(tbc)


	8. pt 8: I make this look good!

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 8

**-.-.- I MAKE THIS LOOK GOOD! -.-.-**

**

* * *

**

'So…' said Sam and picked a grape from the fruit basket on Deeks' bed table, 'we got in, we got the man and we got out.'

'That simple?' Deeks asked. He looked at them a little closer with his one eye. 'Nah… you're pulling my leg. There's something you're not telling me.'

'Not at first, of course. We were heavily armed, body armour, the whole shebang. Callen and Sam got in from the front, I took the back,' said Kensi and also put a grape in her mouth. 'Nice. Tasty.'

'But then we noticed that the place was as good as empty. Carpenter thought with both Teena and Alfonse out of the way, he didn't have to take special precautions any longer,' grinned Callen. 'Nice grapes, Deeks. You mind?' He didn't wait for his colleague to answer and stuffed a few in his mouth.

'You should have seen the look on his face when Sam and Callen stormed in…' Kensi couldn't suppress her smile.

'… he was humping a girl…' continued Sam.

'… on his desk,' filled in Callen.

'… and his pants were around his ankles…' Sam went on.

'… so when he tried to make a run for it, he tripped and fell down the stairs,' Callen said. 'Kensi stood at the bottom of the staircase, waited until Carpenter had come to a full stop…'

'... and then inquired very politely if all Carpenters were that tiny!' Sam laughed.

Deeks burst out in laughter, amazement and disbelief lighting up his face. 'Really? Way to go, girl!'

'It was probably the most anti-climax arrest ever,' said Kensi and laughed.

'Your Blackberry rescue did the trick,' said Sam with a smile. 'Not bad for a temp.'

'Hey! Go easy on him,' scoffed Callen. 'He's not a temp anymore.'

'Temporarily indisposed,' Kensi suggested. 'Good?' That was for Deeks who shrugged, a little smile playing around his lips.

'So was it his Blackberry? Carpenter's?' he asked.

'No, didn't we mention that? Eric cracked the code and pulled the data off the Blackberry. It belonged to a Margaret Bex. The thing was literally filled with information about shipments, release dates and hours, officer of the watch at Customs, info about the Docks Manager, and about Carpenter and Alfonse.'

'Margaret Bex? Should that ring a bell?' Deeks asked.

'Margaret Bex probably not but Teena Bouvigne certainly will.'

Deeks frowned. 'Teena? Carpenter's mistress?'

'The same,' said Sam with a nod. 'We found a couple of photos of her and Alfonse. We thought Margaret/Teena was Carpenter's mistress, but in fact, she played a double game. She was Alfonse's half-sister and used whatever information she could pull from Carpenter.'

'What?' said Deeks, his mouth falling open.

'She was rigging the game,' Sam cheerfully said.

Callen recalled the events in the warehouse. 'She was killed by Carpenter. Shot. We thought he was aiming at Alfonse, but he must have known she was channelling information Alfonse's way. She probably tried to save herself by getting rid of the Blackberry in the warehouse.'

'And the explosives in the suitcase?' Deeks asked.

'The briefcase was just an extra precaution that Carpenter built in to get Alfonse and her out of the way,' Kensi said. 'According to Eric, Carpenter had a record with explosives.'

'So how did you know where he was?'

Sam rolled his eyes. 'You know how Nell and Eric can have those stupid smiles on their faces with that typical _we-beat-you-to-it-already-found-out_-look? They had tracked Carpenter down to a small office downtown.'

'So you went there all geared up and he…' Deeks laughed at the graphic picture his colleagues had painted him.

Kensi nodded. 'O yeah.'

'Who was she?'

A shrug from Sam preceded his answer. 'Did some work for him. Temp. Not the brightest girl.'

'It's bit of a disappointment for Sam,' Callen said. 'He wanted to be your avenger, you know. Blaze in and storm the barricades and blow Carpenter to kingdom come, and all.'

Sam grinned sourly. 'Yeah, right.'

'You'd do that for me, Sam? Delightful,' said Deeks with a cheeky smile. 'I always knew… deep down inside you're all soft and fluffy. You try to hide it with all that display of muscle but in reality…'

'Deeks, if you want to leave here soon, you better stop right there,' said Callen grinning broadly.

'Excellent idea,' grunted Sam but he laughed forgivingly.

'And how's the story with you?' Kensi asked. 'Any news on the eye front?'

'Well, if all goes according to plan I get to go home on Monday. Doc says my eye is improving. After that, I'll need some time to recover and get in shape again but then… I guess I'm still in your hair. Sorry Sam. No offence.'

'You're coming back to NCIS?' Sam asked, casting a quick glance at Callen. An agent with only eye was no agent, as far as NCIS policy was concerned.

Deeks shrugged. 'I don't know yet. Maybe not the active service for a while, but I've always wanted to learn the things that Eric and Nell do, and I've asked Hetty and she isn't too reluctant about the idea.'

'Do you want learn that kind of geek stuff?' Kensi said with such disbelief that she made it sound as if it was something filthy that stuck to the sole of her shoe.

'Sure. Why not? I'm good with computers,' said Deeks. 'I still like to work. I'm not an invalid, even though you guys might think otherwise. Besides…' He picked up a pair of very dark shades that were on his bedside table and put them on. 'I look good in this, don't I?'

Kensi, Sam and Callen looked for one surprised moment at Deeks, sitting in the hospital bed, wearing dark sunglasses and looking like a complete idiot.

'Moron,' mumbled Sam. 'Guys, we've gotta go. Hetty awaits.'

'Ah, tell Hetty I said hi. She gave me the glasses,' Deeks said happily and waved to Sam and Callen who walked to the door.

'Right… figures…' said Kensi. She smiled and slowly, a look of calm mockery in her eyes, she nodded.

'Kensi!' Callen called to her from the far end of the ward. 'Time to go!'

* * *

(tbc)


	9. pt 9: Nancy

FALLING LIKE DOMINOES, by Elszy

Part 9

**-.-.- NANCY -.-.-**

**

* * *

**

Deeks rang the doorbell to a limewashed house in a sunlit street in the suburbs of LA. He expected footsteps to come his way, the front door to be opened by a pretty girl or maybe a man with a pleasant smile, but nothing happened. He had looked so long to find Nancy's address, the present for her had been sitting on a shelf for weeks. The hospital administration had not been cooperative and kept information about staff confidential, he'd been told. The phonebook brought no answers either and roaming the internet didn't help. But finally, with the help of some friends and Nell - who would bend Hetty's rules a little if the boss looked the other way - he had managed to get her address, somewhere in the suburbs of LA.

The place stayed peculiarly quiet.

Deeks tried again. He could hear the _ding-dong_ echoing through the house.

Nothing.

From his pocket he took a scrap of paper and checked the address again. 36694, Alhambra Str., LA. He looked at the neighbouring house and checked the number. He had been buzzing the right door bell, no doubt. He stepped off the porch and peered through the windows, trying to distinguish something through the semi-transparent curtains.

_Huh?_

_Empty?_

He went around the house, stepped over the white picket fence that set the perimeter of the backyard and repeated what he had done a minute ago. The house was empty. There was just the reflection of sunlight on the parquet floor and dust that floated slowly through rays of light that peeped in. The furniture was minimal, limited to a sofa and a table with four chairs. The place bore no traces of anyone living there.

'Are ya looking for someone?' he heard and turned to face a man in his seventies, walking his dog, a little ugly mongrel that peed against a lamp post and sniffed the kerb.

'Err… yeah. The family that lived here?'

The old man scratched his head under the edge of the white straw hat he was wearing. 'Ain't no family there, young man. There was a tenant for a while, but the place's been emptied 'bout a month ago.'

'A tenant?'

'Yeah, a woman. Kinda kept to herself,' said the man, nodding. 'Friendly though, but not very talkative.'

'How long was she here for?' Deeks asked.

The older man shrugged. 'Wouldn't be able to tell ya. Sometimes there's no one at the house for months, sometimes there's a tenant for a while. It's probably one of those company houses, ya know. Firm just needs a place to put an employee for a while, probably cheaper than hotels these days.'

'Yeah, I guess,' Deeks nodded in thought. 'You don't know where she went, this tenant?'

'Nope. As I said, she was kinda closed. Most people who live here are. Well, I better be off. Good luck finding what ya're looking for,' the old man said with a smile and walked on.

Deeks watched him as he waggled his way down the street, the tiny, scruffy dog in his wake. Then his eyes darted toward the house again. He thought about picking the lock, he'd done it a number of times so he should be able to gain access easily. And then? Find the place to be as empty as it seemed from the outside? Risk being charged with breaking and entering?

The present in his hand now felt out of a place. In fact, _he_ felt out of place. He should have smelled a rat the moment he'd noticed how difficult it was to find Nancy DeVere. The old man had been right: if the tenant was the same person Deeks was looking for, she was closed. To herself. Only every now and then Deeks had seen her opening up a little, only to close up just as quickly again.

There was no point in trying to get in. He'd have to start all over again, look in a different place.

He sighed, stepped over the fence again and headed for his car.

'You won't find her, Mr Deeks.'

Hetty…

He turned to face the small woman, who calmly stood next to an inconspicuous dark grey Ford. Had that car been here when he arrived? No. He was sure it hadn't. Had Hetty seen him peering in, going around the back, having a chat with the neighbour? He approached her. What it was with Hetty, he couldn't tell, but he felt a strange and unfamiliar sense of safety in her presence. She had a way of taking care of business, she had always kept on an eye on him, he was on her radar even when he had disappeared for a while. Hetty had eyes in the back of her head and Deeks was pretty sure that she used almost all of her brain cells instead of the pathetic twenty percent he and every one else in the world did.

'Where is she, Hetty? Who is she?'

Hetty looked up and down the empty street that baked in the sun. 'She's a federal agent and she's been relocated. When you were released from the IC, her work was done, and there was a new patient awaiting her elsewhere.'

'An agent?' Deeks said, stunned.

'Yes. And a good one at that too. Her medical degree was a welcome plus. She travels and works all over the country, where ever she is needed. Sometimes agents are so badly injured or or delirious from abuse or torture that they might spill the beans, so to say. Having someone on the inside is the only logical step to prevent information leaving the room.'

'But she told me she had twin girls at UCLA and a son and a husband,' Deeks said as if to convince Hetty she was wrong.

'Nancy was never married,' Hetty said calmly. 'Her covers are always just as good as the ones Mr Beal sets up for you, Mr Hanna, Mr Callen and Miss Blye.'

'But…'

Deeks tried to get his mind around it. So that kind nurse was an agent, assigned to the Intensive Care Unit to keep an eye on him and make sure he inadvertently wouldn't give away any company secrets?

'Nancy worked for you?' Deeks' tone grew softer.

Hetty nodded. 'Yes. Why are you here, Mr Deeks?'

It took Deeks a long time to answer her. He felt odd. Taken care of, but also betrayed.

'I wanted to give her this,' he said and tried to hide the disappointment over not finding Nancy and the dislike over the idea that she was an agent from his voice. 'As a way to say thanks for taking such good care of me. I tried to find her the day I was discharged from hospital, but she wasn't there.'

'A book, Mr Deeks?'

'Yeah. It's quite rare. It's one of the earliest English translations of Doctor Zhivago.'

'Ah… Boris Pasternak… a love story set against the Russian revolution,' Hetty nodded approvingly. '1956?'

Deeks smiled wanly. Once again Hetty knew how to surprise him with her vast knowledge. 'That's when the original was published in both Russian as well as Italian. But this book was published in '59. Second edition.'

'That indeed is rare, Mr Deeks. Why did you choose that particular book for Nancy?'

Deeks let his fingers slide over the leather cover. 'Because it's a good book. Because I thought Nancy would like it.'

Hetty smiled gingerly. 'I think so too. Would you like me to give it to her?'

Deeks sought Hetty's eyes. His were hidden well behind the dark glasses that he still needed, especially on a bright, sunny day like this, but her sunglasses weren't as concealing as his and he could still make out her piercing look.

'She was so kind and so gentle… she saved me from going insane, Hetty. If it hadn't been for her advice, for her listening ear and her caring, I would have…' his voice trailed off as his thoughts about the dark days in the hospital brought back livid memories.

'She liked you a lot, Marty,' Hetty said in a rare display of familiarity. 'You have the rare gift of warming people over. Not many people get to find a place in Nancy's heart.'

The two stood quiet for a moment, sunlight caressing them, a gentle breeze playing around them. Hetty took the book from Deeks' hands and he knew with absolute certainty that it would be in Nancy's posession in a couple of days. 'Now Mr Deeks, I suggest you take good use of your last week off. I told your colleagues you'll be back next Monday.'

'You did? I am?' Surprise coloured Deeks' tone.

Hetty nodded. 'Yes. I've been trying the team to accept a stand-in for a while, but they didn't buy it.'

Deeks smiled, suddenly feeling light at heart, taken care of and welcome. 'Nah… they're a bit of a nasty bunch where temps are concerned.'

'You don't say,' said Hetty with a chuckle. 'Goodbye. I'll see you next week.'

She didn't wait for a reply, stepped into the Ford and drove off.

Deeks threw a last look at the house and got in his car. The fact that Hetty expected him in next week boosted his spirit. His eye was improving by the day, his vision would be back to normal again soon. His skin was healing, that might take longer, but it didn't bother him. His stamina was returning. According to the doctors, he could do whatever he was up to.

Maybe he'd go surfing. He had hardly been able to lately. He'd wear the hard plastic eyepatch and look really cool and pirate-ish. A bit of showing off never hurt anyone, did it?

He was back.

He was definitely back.

FINI

* * *

**Note: Thanks to all and everyone who have added me or my story to their favourites, and especially for reviewing. Reviews really do make a huge difference between inspirational, true writing or just trying to get it finished. Thank you, thank you.**

**On a second note… English is not my first language, so in case you scratched your head once in a while trying to understand what the hell it was I meant… now you know!**

**Ta!**

**Elszy**


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